Werewolf of Fever Swamp by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online

felt Dad’s hand on the shoulder of my pajama shirt. “What a mess he’s made,” he murmured.
    “Wolf—stop!” I called again.
    The big dog turned, breathing hard. His eyes glowed red in the moonlight through the window.
    “Why is he so desperate to get out?” Emily demanded.
    “We can’t have him in the house if he does this every night,” Mom said, her voice hoarse from sleep.
    The big dog lowered his head and let out an excited growl. His tail stood straight up behind him.
    “Open the front door. Let him out,” Mom said. “Before he wrecks the whole house.”
    Dad hurried across the room and pulled open the door. Wolf didn’t hesitate for a second. He bounded to the door and burst out.
    I ran to the window to watch him. But the big dog disappeared around the side of the house, running toward the back yard.
    “He’s heading to the swamp,” I guessed.
    “He tried to break right through the window,” Mom said.
    Emily clicked on a lamp. “He’s so strong, he probably could have broken the window,” she said quietly.
    Dad closed the front door. He yawned. Then he turned his gaze on me. “You know what this means, don’t you, Grady?”
    I was still staring out at the full moon. “No. What?”
    “Wolf will have to stay outdoors from now on,” Dad said. He stooped and began picking up pieces of the broken lamp.
    “But, Dad—” I started to protest.
    “He’s too big and too restless to stay in the house,” Dad continued. He handed the lamp pieces to Emily. Then he pulled the table rightside up and returned it to its place in front of the window.
    “Wolf didn’t mean to break the lamp,” I argued weakly.
    “He’ll break everything we have,” Mom said quietly.
    “He’s just too big,” Dad added. “He’ll have to stay outside, Grady.”
    “Why did he want out so desperately?” Emily demanded.
    “He’s probably used to being outside,” Dad told her. “He’ll be happier out there,” he said, turning to me.
    “Yeah. Maybe,” I replied glumly. I liked having Wolf sleep beside me in my bedroom. But I knew there was no way I could convince my parents to give the dog a second chance. Their minds were made up.
    And at least they were letting me keep Wolf.
    I pulled the vacuum cleaner out of the closet and plugged it in. Dad took the nozzle and began vacuuming up the tiny pieces of glass from the carpet.
    That crazy dog, I thought, shaking my head unhappily. What is his problem, anyway?
    When Dad finished, I carried the vacuum cleaner back to the closet.
    “Now maybe we can all sleep in peace,” Mom said, yawning.
    She was wrong.

 
    17

    I heard the frightening howls again a short while later.
    At first I thought I was dreaming them.
    But when I opened my eyes and gazed around my dark bedroom, the howls continued. Still half asleep, I gripped the covers with both hands and pulled them up to my chin.
    The howls sounded so close, as if they were right outside my window. They didn’t seem like the cries of an animal. They were too angry, too deliberate.
    Too human.
    Stop trying to frighten yourself, I thought. It’s a wolf. It has to be some kind of swamp wolf.
    In the back of my mind, I knew it might be Wolf making those frightening sounds. But I kept pushing the thought away.
    Why would the dog howl like that?
    Dogs bark. They don’t howl unless they’re very sad or upset.
    I shut my eyes, wishing the frightening wails away.
    Suddenly, they stopped. Silence.
    Then I heard rapid thumps on the ground. Footsteps.
    Some kind of a struggle.
    I heard a short, terrifying cry. It cut off almost as soon as it began.
    It’s right in back of the house, I realized.
    Wide awake now, I jumped out of bed, dragging the covers with me. I stumbled to the bedroom window and grabbed the windowsill.
    The full moon had risen high in the night sky. The back yard stretched out silvery in the moonlight, the dewy grass shimmering in the bright light.
    Pressing my forehead against the windowpane, I peered